The Wish Collector

by Mia Sheridan

"By a drop of Angelina's blood being brought to the light."

Her father had wiped her tears and told her she couldn't always cry for the world or she’d be crying all the time.

"But, Daddy," she’d said, "if I don't let my tears out, won't I drown inside?"

By a drop of her blood being brought to the light.

“Love carves into the hardest of places.”

“Love can’t just disappear when this life is through, can it, Jonah? Even if our bodies turn to dust, the love we feel must go somewhere.”

away from the light, even that of the moon. Once upon a time, he had been a man used to the spotlight and now he was a man who danced between moonbeams.

It would sound romantic, Jonah thought with a humorless huff of breath, if it weren’t so damned pathetic.

The way you say her name. It’s like you’re saying a prayer.”

“Promise me,” she gasped, her nails sinking into the damp skin of his back. “I promise you, Angelina.” She took his promise inside of her and locked it safely away. It was all she had in the world that was hers and hers alone. Nothing else belonged to her—not her future, not her happiness—not even herself.

For a moment she stood in the doorway overhang, Fabienne’s words ringing in her head. If Angelina lingers, she lingers for him. But why? Why would a woman linger for a man who, until the moment of her tragic death, she believed had betrayed her? Or . . . so the story went.

He wanted to. He wished he had something, some form of hope that things could get better. He’d even gone to that stupid wall, which was, well, stupid. But nothing was going to change, and he couldn’t face another day of this never ending agony.

Eddy paused for the fraction of a moment, recalling the wish he’d made earlier that day. The wish he’d called stupid a few minutes ago. I wish I had a reason not to jump from the CCC tonight. Anything.

“Yeah,” Augustus said. “Yeah.” He looked straight into his eyes. “There’s light in the darkness, man. I promise you. And you’re going to be a part of it. There’s no one better than you to be a part of it.”

And he could live with that. He could live with that.

“That’s what we have to figure out. Why would Angelina choose to stay trapped for eternity, waiting endlessly for a man who betrayed her? It has to be important, Jonah. Angelina lived her life in chains—almost literally. She wouldn’t choose to spend her afterlife in such a way if it wasn’t vital to her soul. Is she waiting for some sort of revenge? Or does she continue to love John despite his betrayal? There’s a reason she won’t leave him, Jonah, and we have to figure it out.

There was not only no point to that, but it was dangerous to him on a personal level. Jonah was not a man who could afford to get lost in fantasy. There was no telling where his mind would go if he gave

it free rein to dream. Even if the topic involved those long dead and gone.

outcast. He looks like a man who’s been terribly hurt by the world and believes there is nothing left to love about him anymore.

Oh, Jonah. She held on to him more tightly, wanting to assure him she wouldn’t let him go, but very aware that he might be the one to push her away. She hoped with everything in her that that wouldn’t happen, that she could convince him there was a life for them outside this deep, fathomless darkness.

My monster. My wish collector. My love.

“He arrives in darkness,”

the feeling that he had done well in her eyes and that she was proud of him in a way a woman finds pride in the man she wants to call her own. And it lit him from within. It lit his soul. He lived in the darkness, but Clara, she was his light.

“Say someone died believing something that was false. When they passed over, would the truth somehow become clear?” “You do know I’ve never been dead, right?”

But honey, you don’t need the best presentation skills in the world to make him see the light. The truth. You just need to put the love I see in your eyes, behind your words. Make him listen to you. And if he still pushes you away, you know you did your very best, with every ounce of love in your heart. And that is where you will find your peace. He will have to find his peace on his own, in his way.”

Be wary of the man with two faces, the fortune teller had said. He’ll hurt you if you let him.

Yes. Yes. Of course he would. Because broken people tended to break things, didn’t they?

A shuddery breath went through Clara. She would not let him. She would fight for

Jonah, and give him every reason to fight for himself, for them.

"There is magic. Us. We're magic. Two lonely people who found each other despite the barricade between us. I felt your heart, Jonah, even through a wall made of rock. We're magic,

Only she didn’t. His fists uncurled. She didn’t belong to Jonah, because he’d pushed her away. He’d told her to leave, demanded she stay away. And then as though that hadn’t been bad enough, he’d tried to steal the magic that brought her such joy. But she hadn’t let him and wasn’t that just like Clara? To hold on to something that held no basis in reality? We’re magic. Us.

But she wouldn’t come to him. He knew that as surely as he knew his own name. She’s already done it twice—two times more than he deserved—and that was all he was going to get. Clara looked away, smiling at something

You give those people too much importance and not enough to the ones who matter.

Clara wanted him to come out from behind his wall, but not just for her, for himself. And the truth of the matter was that Clara was a woman who rarely wished for things for herself. Clara was a woman who spent her wishes on others. Help me help you, Angelina. The selfless wish that had brought Clara to him in the first place.

Jonah almost laughed. Leave it to Clara to wish for the one thing he could not grant.

He’d once been her wish collector, but she’d been the one to give him all of the

things he’d never dared to dream of. Happiness. Peace. Pride. A soul mate.

“Yes,” Jonah whispered, squeezing her hand. That night it was easy to believe in magic. That night, there was magic all around him.